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My feet stilled in place. I hadn't seen her go down, only fall forward, and that strange smile...
What does she know that I don't?
The answer to that was a plethora of things I didn't have time to delve into as I studied the spot where I saw her last. I felt around the edge of the waterfall, got myself extra drenched as the moonlight disappeared, leaving me cloaked in darkness. The rumble of a night’s storm echoed across the mountain’s face.
Determined not to give up, I felt around until my fingers disappeared around an unseen corner in the rock.
A cave, or not? Either I was about to face plant into the rock, or tumble unconscious into the pond at midnight, whichever happened first.
Taking a long breath and questioning my life choices, the spirit of the wild child I chased, and my sanity, I dived head first through the waterfall and hoped I’d see her again before I died.
CHAPTER THREE
My face didn’t smash into the granite rock wall beyond, and I counted that as a win. The space beyond opened out into a cave with a slippery entrance. Once I was inside, my eyes adjusted to the dappled light and the constant roar of the waterfall at my back, I found the haven beyond dry, if cool.
Starlight filtered through the water lighting the cave in a shattered prism of silvery light that dimmed as the storm drew nearer. A breeze swished around my wrists, its fingers sneaking inside my damp shirt as I walked a few steps deeper into her space.
Because it was hers, with no doubt.
“Sienna?” I called softly, trailing my fingers along the woven baskets that lined a ledge that either predated us by a long time or she carved out on her own. Normally I'd say that was impossible but with her? She broke all the rules and revelled happily in the chaos that came after in a way I envied.
I always thought my life meant freedom, jaunting from place to place, never having to settle or lock myself to one location, one home.
Sienna took that existence, and made it seem bland.
Her connection to the land and the mountain blew my mind in all the best ways. Like it owned her, not the other way around. That fresh perspective drew me deeper into the darkness, until my fingers caught on a beaded necklace that felt familiar.
I rubbed the irregular shape, knowing it was one of mine. Not mine–I hadn’t made the piece–but I’d sold it down at Red Hart. To Will, maybe, or one of the hands last season.
“I recognize this,” I murmured to the cool air that swished around me. My words were lost in the thunder of the waterfall, but somehow, she heard me.
Sienna appeared at my side like the ethereal little wraith she was. Her fingers touched mine over the beads and she looked up at me, nodding and silent.
“Who gave them to you?” I tried to make my voice detached, but it didn’t work.
She shook her head, a sweet, teasing smile on her lips. Her proximity left my skin tingling with the need to touch her as strong as it had been to kiss her earlier with that damn gel.
The way I wanted to last season, when she sat with me at the long table beside Eve's kitchen and talked with me quietly through the night. That memory kept me awake and my hand busy for plenty of lonely nights afterwards.
Tonight didn’t seem to be a night for talking.
Her hand curved under mine, sliding the beads out of my grasp. She caught my fingers, drawing them up until my hand rested on her shoulder where her dress tied at the front. I toyed with the drawstring, knowing if I pulled it would loosen the soft cotton, letting it tumble to the stone floor.
“Sienna,” I whispered, my throat dry as I attempted to swallow. I grazed my other hand along the line of her jaw, tangling my fingers in the flyaway wild curls by her cheek that matched her perfectly. “This–” I swallowed again, my voice lost in the face of my fantasy.
This isn’t how I pictured it.
I don’t want to rush you.
I don’t want to hurt you.
Though from Trav’s big bro talk earlier, it would likely be me being hurt, not her. I had no idea if she was a virgin, or if she took lovers from the seasonal hands regularly. That last though sent blood soaring through my veins. My hand curled around the back of her neck, pulling her into me a little rougher than I intended, but from the way her lips parted and her body softened in my hold, curving toward me, she liked it.
“Fuck, I don’t want to hurt you. I want to take it slow.”
She stared at me through those thick, heavy lashes that matched her wild hair, her eyes a void, a chasm I could tumble into and never want to climb out from.
I’m yours.I studied her, all soft, generous lips I wanted to turn a deeper shade of red under my mouth, her heart-shaped face delicate except for those wild eyes that pierced me, unforgiving.
